Abused
by Brentinator
Summary: He was all alone. Terrified of what would happen next. He needed help. Rated high T! AU. Based off something I heard on the radio and SEVERAL stories on here (full list is inside) One shot. 80th STORY! :D thanks to The fourth Bionic for beta reading!


He cried out in agony as the belt hit his side before standing up and trying to run, only to be pulled back down and smacked again, making a few tears trickle down his pale cheeks.  
"Quit your whining you ***!" His "father" yelled as he smacked him a third time.  
"How...many...more?" The boy stuttered as the tears started flowing freely, dripping onto the floor.  
"Just shut up, ***!" The older man shouted as he smacked his shoulder, making blood drip down slowly to the floor.  
The boy remained quiet as his father continued bringing the whip down onto his scrawny body, with the occasional cries when he hit certain spots.  
"Take your shirt off!" The man demanded.  
The boy slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing various bruises and cuts from previous "sessions" as he was practically pushed down before being smacked again. Not expecting it at all, he cried out once again before his vision went dark.  
When he regained consciousness, the first thing he realized was that he was still alive, considering this "session" had been worse then the ones that he had to deal with since he was seven years old. Then again, his father was probably drunk this time around, which that had only happened a few times before. Normally when his father was drunk, he was at school, so he took out his anger on their now pretty much destroyed couch. The next thing he noticed was his shirtless body. He looked over to see that his T-shirt, currently laying on the ground, about a inch away from him, had blood stains on it. He picked it up and slipped it on, before grabbing the couch cushion and used it to stand himself up, after a few cries as he felt scabs from last night being stretched and opened again, he finally was able to stand up and go to his "room". Which was technically the basement. He pulled off his shirt and jeans, only to see the many, MANY, scars aligning his body. He sighed in disappointment as he pulled on a new pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket to cover up his arms. After quickly putting some cover up on his face to hide the bruises, he grabbed his backpack and ran out the door before his father could give him a "warning". As soon as he got to the school, he put his head down, not wanting to draw any attention.  
"Hey, are you alright?" Someone asked.  
The boy looked up to see a older, darker haired boy.  
"Y-yeah. I am f-fine. Th-thanks f-for as-asking." He stuttered as he was about to leave when he felt the guy grab his shoulder, making him wince as pain from one of the bruises went through his entire arm.  
"Are you su- Why is there blood coming through your shirt?!" He suddenly yelled, but it was more concerned then mad.  
Just the thought of blood made the boy dizzy as he reached his hand through his shirt, wincing as he touched his back, and bringing his hand back to see red on his fingertips before darkness overcame him a second time.  
When he woke up the third time, his surroundings were unfamiliar. He was in a dim room with a small bookcase and a desk as the only things he could see. He felt himself laying somewhere soft and looked around to see he was on a large bed under a few blankets, all light blue as he heard someone open the door, and it was a man with black hair, spiked up with a black jacket, gray pants and a gray and black shirt on.  
"Your awake. Do you feel any pain?" The man asked as he came over to the confused boy.  
"A li-little in my le-left sho-shoulder a-and my ba-back." The boy admitted as he suddenly remembered what happened and broke into tears.  
"Hey, calm down. It's gonna be alright." The man soothed, but it didn't work as he pulled his knees to his chest as he continued crying more and then he whispered, shaking.  
"Th-that's wh-what ever-everyone sa-says, bu-but it ne-never ha-has."  
"It will now. You're pretty banged up, but you are lucky my son noticed what was going on. No offense to him, but he isn't the smartest." The man explained, in attempts to get the upset and broken boy to smile, but no avail as he just kept sniffing and a few tears fell onto the blanket.  
"Ca-can yo-you ju-just lea-leave ple-please?" The boy asked sadly.  
"Yeah. Let me know if you need something. Alright?"  
The boy nodded as the man left, closing the door behind him. Then he lifted up his shirt as soon as the door clicked, and looked down at the bruises, scars and cuts before pulling the covers over his shoulders and laying his head down on the soft pillow.  
Chase would never be the same.  
The end

 **Thanks to The fourth Bionic for editing this!**

 **This is my 80th story! I'm so happy!**

 **Also, this was inspired by something I heard on the radio, The Elite Bionic's Story, My life as Chase, TheUnknownBlock's continuation, My life as Daniel and Jvwollert's stories, Chase's life and Chase's life 2.**

 **Thanks again for being so supportive!**

 **Over and out.**

 **Susz.**


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